


Old-Fashioned

by floridiot



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Clothed Sex, Humiliation, Incest, M/M, Name-Calling, Non-Penetrative Sex, Punishment, Spanking, degrading, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 21:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11563869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floridiot/pseuds/floridiot
Summary: Morty makes the mistake of going into the garage without his grandfather.





	Old-Fashioned

**Author's Note:**

> FYI: Morty is 18+ in this rather than fourteen or fifteen, just a heads up.

He had heard the same story time and time again: do not go into the garage without Rick. However, Morty is just now realizing that he left his phone down in there before his grandpa left to pick up some more liquor. He didn’t use his phone very much, so he didn’t notice that he didn’t have it in his pocket until he heard it go off downstairs. Morty knew he had to go find it; it could be one of his parents, Rick, or even Summer. It might be an emergency, for all he knows! Morty stood at the top of the stairs for the longest time building the courage to break this rule, one of the ones that Rick was the most strict with. When he finally began going down the steps, he felt his sense of dread begin to grow. It formed in his stomach in knots and spread to his chest and throat. It had engulfed him by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, but since he was already down here, he didn’t want to turn back yet. Unfortunately, Morty didn’t see his phone in plain view when he gave a first glance around the room, meaning that he’d have to dig around a little bit more. Going beyond the surface ran a higher risk of getting into a sensitive project, but giving up increased the odds of getting grounded from adventures with Rick.

With a heavy and anxious sigh, Morty steadily began to sort through Rick’s things. He was cautious and slow at first, gently lifting papers and scooting parts out of the way. With time, however, he started to become a bit more hasty. What if Rick caught him? What if he was angry with him? Or what if it was serious and Morty didn’t find it in－

There it is! He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the light from his phone screen through some papers and moved them around to grasp for his cell. Morty was pretty irritated to find out that the notification was just something from one of his games and not an emergency text from a family member. With a sigh, he supposed that things could always be worse, especially with Rick for a grandfather. He slid his phone back into his pocket with ideas for dinner swimming in his head. But these thoughts were replaced by panic as his feet slid on one of the papers that had floated its way onto the floor. Morty fell backwards into a shelf, and while __he__  was balanced, Rick’s junk certainly wasn’t. He scrambled to to keep everything off the floor, but sadly, he couldn’t manage to keep __everything__ safe; he wasn’t perfect.

A device with seemingly endless sides and numerous buttons, switches, and dials, feel to the ground and shattered. Morty stood in absolute shock, jaw hanging open, until he was able to fully comprehend what he’d done. His grandpa would __mutilate__  him if he came home and saw this disaster. After just a couple seconds of quick decision-making, Morty knelt down and began hurrying to gather all the pieces to be put away before－

Oh god.

The front door.

As Morty heard someone unlock, open, and close it again, his arms and knees began to quiver and his heart began to race. It was suddenly much harder to grab anything and even more difficult to think of a place to hide his accident. It didn’t help to hear Rick’s footsteps heading right for his direction. He would usually step in his bedroom to maybe take his shoes off or to get something from the kitchen, but he most have heard someone down here and was therefore made suspicious. Just his luck that his grandpa was such a paranoid tightwad about his shit, huh? With no time to devise a great way to keep Rick out of the garage, Morty attempted to gather as many pieces as he could into the hem of his shirt and carry them to some sort of closet or drawer so he could get out of there before Rick caught him in his garage.

Unfortunately, he tripped (again) and dropped everything in his arms and watched in horror as it crashed and shattered further－just as Rick entered the room. Without even seeing the expression on his face, Morty could __feel__ the anger boiling up inside his grandfather. The longer the teen refused to look back, the more the tension grew within the room, surrounding and suffocating Morty.

“What in the actual __fuck__ , Morty?” He asked, making his grandson jump; he’d gone from the steps to directly behind him without making a single sound. That didn’t bode well.

“How-How many __fuck-urrp-ing__  times have I told you－”

“－not to go i-in the garage without you, I know!”

“So why’d you d-do-do it, anyways?” Morty began stumbling over his words, rushing to try and explain himself. Rick was already shaking his head about halfway through the story.

“Oh my god, y-y-you’re－” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re the most paranoid person I’ve ever－God, just go. You’re just go-going to make it worse!” That happened to be when Rick leaned over a bit and saw that Morty wasn’t kneeling in an empty floor.

“...what the hell is that?” His voice was much lower than it was before; he always become incredibly serious about anything revolving around his scientific belongings.

“Nothing!”

“Mortyyyyyyy－” Rick’s tone was warning and becoming livid.

“I-I didn’t mean it, Rick! I was just－”

“You broke something, didn’t you?” Before Morty could try to apologize or show him the broken parts himself, Rick roughly nudged him to the side with wide eyes.

“Are you __kidding__  me, Mor-Morty?!” Rick began to pick up the pieces, and as he did, he waved at Morty to rush him out of the way so he could take care of the mess. As his grandson hurried to his feet, he heard an agonizing crunching sound under his foot and winced, knowing that things could only get worse from here on out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to－”

“Just-Just sit down!” Morty swallowed thickly and nodded, hurrying to over to Rick’s chair and sitting on the edge while he fidgeted with his hands. Time crawled to a slow while he watched Rick gather up salvageable parts and sweep away others. It only took a couple minutes, but Morty’s dread made it feel like a couple hours. When Rick finally turned to look at him, Morty felt like he’d faint. After a long pause, he finally spoke up.

“Rick, I’m sup-super sorry that I broke y-your－” But his grandfather held a hand up to silence him.

“Save it.” Rick closed his eyes and took in a sharp breath through his nose, deep in thought for some time.

“You keep telling me you’re sorry, b-b-but my shit keeps getting bro-urrp-ken, so I don’t know what you expect me to do here, Morty.” Again, the teen tried to get a word or two in.

“I won’t do it a－” He was cut off once more.

“How many times are you go-going to say that? H-How many times will you get off the hook scot-free?”

“Rick, I won’t－”

“You __will__  until you learn better.” He paused, the gears in his head turning as he seemed to come up with something he felt suitable. Morty feared that Rick might ban him from their adventures until he wasn’t mad at him anymore… which might be a while.

“...y’know, when I was growing up and I fucked with something, a spanking made sure I never did it again.” At this, Morty’s eyes got big.

“You’re n-not going to...?” Rick smirked and stepped up to Morty.

“I am.”

“I’m nineteen!” He cried in an embarrassed sort of horror. Rick rolled his eyes and sighed heavily as he pulled Morty up to his feet and over to a work bench.

“God, Morty, y-your generation is s-so fucking－”

“Oh my god, Rick, ca-can you not－”

“Not what?”

“－be such a cliché－”

“Me? A cliché?”

“－right now, because my generation isn’t worse than yours. _I-I’m_ a dipshit, sure, b-but not all of us, Rick.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“I’d honestly rather do anything else right now than involved in this con-conversation.” Rick yanked Morty down over his knee and shrugged.

“That’s fine with me.” Without giving Morty any warning, he went right into it and brought his hand down hard on his ass. The first one was fast and unexpected, pulling a loud yelp from the teenager. Rick __actually__  snorted at him, rolling his eyes and pausing a moment before proceeding.

“You’re such a baby; I’m not even trying.” As Morty went to give his own retort, his grandfather delivered a well-timed swat that made him call out again. Hearing his grandpa snicker made Morty decide to muffle any possible noises and keep his mouth shut from then on out. He was keeping count at first, but after they got to twenty or so, the numbers just started to fizz together. Between counting spanks and preserving his dignity, Morty definitely was more concerned with his pride. At least around Rick.

It wasn’t so bad after a bit. Morty started to become adjusted to the pain, able to bear it more than in the beginning. He was taking one at a time, and it seemed like it could make it through this with some shred of confidence left. Until... Well... He felt his jeans start to get uncomfortably tight. Morty figured that, in this position, his pants had ridden up on his midsection. But when he shifted and got them down a bit, they were still unbearably restricting, especially on his crotch. After a few more wiggles, he felt a throbbing in his－

Well, fuck.

What do you do when you’ve popped a boner while your own relative is spanking you over his knee? No, really. Truly. What __do__ you do? Because any minute now, Rick will feel that lump against his outer thigh, realize what’s happened, and __humiliate__ his grandson.

Look’s like time’s up!

Rick pauses at about… Eh… How many is it now? Thirty, maybe forty-something? Who cares; he wasn’t aiming for a specific number. His goal was simply to go at it until he’d let out all his frustrations, but now? Now it was different. He feels a hard bump against his leg and knows almost immediately what it is. He can’t even believe it at first! He would have never pegged Morty as a fucking __masochist.__

Doesn’t matter.

He smirks to himself, hand pausing. Morty can feel the hum of previous strikes on his behind, but he’s more concerned with the deafening silence taking up the space in the room. It was only moments later that his grandfather threaded his fingers through his hair and yanked upwards, yet it had felt like an absolute __eternity__ waiting for something to be done. Rick leaned in close, his breath on Morty’s neck as he whispered into his ear.

“You little freak.”

Morty choked on his breath, unable to put together any coherent sentences at first. Should he lie? How does he make up an excuse for something like this?

“R-Rick, listen, please－I won’t tell anyone, anyone! I-I’ll stay out of your garage, we can forget all about this, we－” His grandpa silenced him with a single blow to his ass. This time, Morty did not grunt or whine in pain. Instead, he outright __moaned.__  At this, Rick laughed and let go of Morty’s hair.

“After that? N-No fucking way.” He snickered and hooked his arm around his grandson’s waist, giving the bulge there a painfully tight squeeze that made Morty whimper. “Y-You-You’ve gotta learn your lesson, I-I can’t just let you wa-walk out of here yet.” After grasping him for a moment, Rick popped his button open, pulled down the zipper, and shuffled Morty’s jeans all the way to his ankles.

“Hey! Wait wait, Rick－” The teen wasn’t sure yet how he was going to talk his way out of this, but he knew he had to figure __something__  out. This was wrong…

Right?

“Spit it out, Morty!”

“I-I just－” He shifted around as he gathered his thoughts. “I think I’ve been punished enough!” Rick raised an eyebrow and turned his grandson’s head by the chin to face him.

“You think?” Morty nodded without hesitation, hoping for some mercy. He got none.

“Y-You don’t even know what e-enough is,” he replied in a low tone, letting the teenager go. Usually, Morty would give in to his grandfather, but this was quite different. He sat up a bit and tried again.

“Okay, so… Don’t let me go on missions! M-Maybe you can te-test a few things on me!” Morty looked up at his grandpa in desperation, but Rick simply shoved him back down into the same degrading position with a firm elbow against his upper back.

“You’re too useful on missions and your parents would be pi-pissed if I accidentally mu-urrp-tated your DNA, so if you could, please shut the fuck up.” Morty whined, huffed, and finally gave in. His breath hitched when he felt Rick squeezing and groping on both his ass and thighs. He could feel his face hot with absolute embarrassment, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing other than lay there and allow his grandfather to do as he pleased. This included letting Rick’s hands roam all over Morty’s body as rough and invasively as possible. But… If he was being honest… He was really starting to like it. And if he hadn't liked it from the very beginning, there's no way Rick would have forced him to stay. He may be an asshole, but he wasn't a monster, especially not when it came to his family.

“I kn-know you’re you, Mor-Morty, but I expected even __you__  to fight a little more than this.” The teenager sighed heavily.

“Wh-What’s the point if－” He felt and heard a slap to his behind again. God, he had to stop falling for that!

“I didn’t say you could speak.” Morty didn’t _have_ to listen to Rick. He didn’t _have_ to stay put and he didn’t _have_ to stay quiet, but you know what? That’s exactly what he did. If his grandson had kept fighting, Rick would have let him run off; the fact that Morty kept still left no doubt in the older man’s mind of how willing (and perhaps eager) he was.

“Now you’re catching on.” Rick chuckled. “It’s funny: you learn faster in my lap than you do on other planets.” That wasn’t quite the truth and both of them knew it. But teasing Morty was so enjoyable for the both of them that they went with it. And as Rick kept going, Morty began grinding and rutting on his grandfather’s… Anything. Legs, thighs, wherever his hips went. He panted out a soft groan when he was finally able to get even a bit of relief.

“Oh my god, that’s rich.” Rick snickered and gave him a couple more spanks. These weren’t as hard or as quick, though, because he was mainly giving them for humiliation’s sake rather than for punishment. “You’re a little slut, aren’t you?” Morty didn’t even think before nodding. He didn’t trust himself to speak without sounding like a broken record, but he had no problem continuing to hump.

Sanchez didn’t mind continuing to egg Morty on, either. He kept teasing and touching his grandson. It typically took quite a lot to get rick Sanchez aroused, let alone get him off. But with Morty… Something about him, especially now, was really making him warm. He didn’t plan to fuck him or anything, but he’d probably imagine a sandwich with Morty between two of his favorite species and jack off to that later when he was too drunk to feel bad.

“Keep goin’… That’s it, just like you’re do-doin’…” Rick’s smug nature radiated off of him, but despite this, Morty could feel something more. Something oddly kind and invested at the same time. For once, his grandpa was fully engaged in him－and Morty didn’t have to be in danger to get the attention. It was… Sweet. Flattering. Addicting, even. So how could he say no? How could he stop when Rick was so devoted?

“Rick…” He breathed, his prick starting to become rather impatient. The grinding had been nice at first, but now he hurt for more. “Rick, can I… Y-You know?” The older man snorted and leaned to the side so he could look Morty in the eye better.

“I’m s-sorry, did you say something?” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Speak the fuck up, Morty.” Well, that wasn’t helping his confidence, but he had to try again.

“Can I… Tou-Touch myself? Or s-s-something?” After asking, he brought his eyes up to his grandfather’s and immediately regretted his decision. Rick had such a harsh look on his face, cold and stern. He’d stopped touching Morty, too.

“You know this is supposed to be a punishment, right?”

“Yeah, b-but－”

“So you shouldn’t be enjoying yourself, right?”

“I guess－”

“So shut y-your trap and put your head ba-back down.”

“But－!”

“ _ _Now.__ ”

After a pause, Morty reluctantly lowered his head and put on a sort of pout. He could practically feel his cock getting all red and dribbling a constant trail of pre. Though the worst part about it was that he felt his arousal double as Rick's control and power over him became more prominent. He swallowed and kept his mouth shut with hopes he could at __least__  be allowed to orgasm __eventually.__

“Good boy,” Rick mumbled, squeezing his ass. “A-Are you close yet?” Morty nodded with shame and made his grandfather snort at him.

“Pa-Pathetic. It hasn’t even been __ten__  minutes, Morty. Your sta-stamina is a disgra-urrp-ce to my bloodline.” Morty shuddered, swallowed his pride, and just nodded again like a little bitch baby. He’d been back to grinding since he put his head down, too. Could you blame him?

“Whatever whatever, come on, let’s finish this up. And I wa-want you to be loud when you cream in your briefs, you little whore. Got it?”

“Mm-hm.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I-I got it,” he whined.

“Got it who?”

“Got it… Uh… Sir?” Rick smirked.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmm-hm. Gotta be poli-polite if you wanna feel good.” With that, Rick smacked his bottom again before beginning to subtly raise his knee up into his grandson’s tent. Horny little teenager, so eager to get off. It was amusing, really, to watch him squirm around. Almost cute. It put a grin on the old bastard’s face, and truly, he couldn’t __wait__  to see Morty climax.

When that gorgeous moment __did__ come, it was obvious. Still perfect in every way, of course, but there was no way Rick could mistake Morty’s quickened hips for anything but an impending peak. He was shaking all over and didn’t give two shits about rhythm. All he cared about was desperately racing to his bliss, trying to catch up with his pleasure. When Morty started giving hard, emphasized thrusts and arched his back inwards, Rick knew Morty’s orgasm had just washed over him. He groaned his grandpa’s name as if he had taken a punch to the gut, which sent shivers down the older man’s spine. He delighted in all of Morty’s reactions, everything from his fluttery lashes to his O-shaped lips.

“Easy… Easy…” His grandfather cooed, stroking Morty’s back as he struggled to recompose himself. He'd never felt more comforted by anyone or anything before (as far as he could remember). Afterglow set in and his body was numb with contentment and a grand feeling of self-worth, and although a certain four-letter word was never mentioned, he could feel it between them more now so than ever. “You’ll be okay, y-you hormone-ridden weirdo…” Rick had a smile on his face as he said this, though, and meant no real harm by any of it.

“Wh-when will Summer be home?” Morty asked once everything settled down and his mind was clear enough to think. “And my parents?” Rick smirked.

“They’re not. Your parents are out to dinner and Summer’s at a frie-urrp-nd’s house, so we have the place to ourselves for a while. Morty grinned.

“Pizza?”

“Pizza.”


End file.
